We Belong To the Earth

Part of the driving purpose of this website, and resultant elder community, is to provide potential opportunities and possibilities to expand awareness of what is possible during this very rich time of our lives, and to cultivate diversity.

It is also to direct attention to solutions and resolutions that we as elders, with our experience, skills and wisdom, can become an integral part of, liberating our unique creativity and imagination no matter where we live in the world.

The video below addresses regenerative living through a Global Eco-Village Network perspective – sustainable communities worldwide. GEN focuses on the needs of future generations for a safe and healthy planet to inhabit.

Even though you may not want to actually live and participate in an eco-village, as the ones showcased on this video, this can open up a different perspective for joining with others in placing attention on resolutions and solutions to our vast challenges and difficulties that are currently on going on this planet and for all living beings and our natural world.

Where you place your attention is vital at this time!

What could you do personally and collectively to live a more sustainable, creative and regenerative life?

Communities of Hope is a film born from a quest to discover a regenerative culture. It is an invitation to discover a new way of life. A way of life measured by the rhythms of nature, the depth of human connection, the vast horizon of human potential. It’s the way of life in ecovillages.

Filmed largely at the European Ecovillage Network’s annual European Ecovillage Gathering, and drawing on two years of travel and exploration in communities in Europe, the film takes us on a journey around the mandala of regeneration: how ecovillages relate to the social, economic, ecological and cultural dimensions of sustainability.”

It offers pathways towards a new way of seeing the world, and a new way of living together.

Liminal Spaces

Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.”

Blaise Pascal

It breaks my heart to see the fog of smoke covering our pristine mountain landscape with fires raging all over my home state of California. Yet as my gaze goes skyward I see the dragonflies and hummingbirds soaring above carrying on their lives as usual. Like natures reminder that life will return and renew after the burning times.

It feels as if we are all in a chrysalis these days, being churned up until we no longer recognize the identities we have carved out for ourselves, so very carefully adhering to cultural standards and expectations.

We are all at thresholds of some sort waiting for the air to clear enough that we can see and become what is emerging within. Someone recently even said to me that one of the criteria for saying yes to something is when he feels a sense of discomfort, thus bypassing old ways of being and leaping into the unknown.

We are in the middle stage of a rite of passage we are sharing together, yet are singularly alone in the alchemical transition to something or somewhere that is uniquely our own and yet to be formed.

“The word “liminal” comes from the Latin root, limen, which means “threshold.” The liminal space is the “crossing over” space – a space where you have left something behind, yet you are not yet fully in something else. It’s a transition space.”

As the caterpillar’s genetic code, long ago formed, insists on the dissolving of one known form into formless, and then into a living being quite unrecognizable from what it has known before, so are we being asked to surrender in these liminal spaces where we experience freedom from rigid boundaries, but don’t quite know where we are, what is real and what rests in our imagination.

The realization that we cannot control this space, nor can we hurry the process with any certainty, can bring periods of impatience or a feeling of being captured in unknown territory where there is no ground to stand on or identity to cling to. It can be frightening and most definitely disorienting.

“The liminal space is an invitation to surrender – an invitation to give over to something larger than self and trust that we will be held and supported with whatever we need in order to navigate the uncertainty. The degree to which we are comfortable or uncomfortable has to do with how we choose to be with what is happening. We can choose to fight against the liminal space and struggle, or to flow with it by listening, sensing, and responding.”

Alan Seale

Life is always evolving and transforming. As we age we seem to sense that even more acutely. Nothing ever stays the same – an impermanence that is coded in the unfolding of each moment of our embodied lives.

Can we perceive these liminal spaces as a great adventure and curiously await the unveiling?

Turn Away

Guest Blog Post By Brian Alger, Exploring Life

Sometimes you must let go
Of all the usual desires
That conspired to lead you to this place
Of contingency, false urgency, and exhaustion

Nearly sixty years have passed
And as your body begins its retreat
You are still disappointed
To find yourself on that beaten and tired path
Remaining faithful to your conditioning
And the rigid discipline of your own inertia
Never turning away
Never looking in the other direction
That believes in you
Because it refuses to show you the way

The path you still follow
After all these years
Offers the comfort of the familiar
And the fulfillment of expectations
Not of your own making
This is not your path
You have always known this
It belongs to that other self
The one who has always been too frightened to
Turn away

But there is a knowing inside
Coming from an invisible source
Calling you toward the wild terrain
That has always been there waiting for you
Where there are no paths to follow
Where there is no one to advise you
Where your distractions are your only guide
And where you must find your own way
For the first time in your life

These are deeply troubled times
We suffer through a daily routine of lies, deception, and distress
Yes, of course, there is good in the world
But it suffocates underneath the knee of our collective malevolence
We all feel the heart-wrenching burden
Of all the unnecessary violence and trauma
And the unavoidable consequence
Of the human narrative
Forged in the raging fires of
Narcissism, inequity, and greed
While a pandemic
Spills gasoline on everyday life

Now is the time to turn away from it all
Not in a refusal to contribute to the greater good
But to participate more deeply in life
By looking in the other direction
Precisely where the distractions are
The ones you have ignored all these years
That only you can move toward
Not on some courageous journey to find meaning, purpose, or wisdom
But embrace humility and revel in the privilege of being alive

I don’t care if there is a true self
I don’t care about finding a vocation
I don’t care to listen to the banter of spiritual automatons
I don’t care who has the best fiction
I care about the mystery of being

Turn away
And as you take that first trembling step
Into that feral terrain
Where your life is
Let those distractions
The ones that have remained faithful to you
Across all these years
Be a revelation
Of something sacred
That leads you back into yourself
And the mystery of your own disappearance
That has been promised

Brian 08/13/2020

Fear As Friend

We all carry fears within us. Often they are not even ours as we are so intimately interconnected. Yet, it is how we react to the fear that can open possibility or shut us down into contraction, narrow spaces of being and old identities that feel safe and well tested.

These fears can be real or imagined with physical, emotional or spiritual impacts.

Decades ago when I was in my late 30”s I found myself on the Napali Coast of Kauai hiking 11 miles of the original Hawaiian trail down to Kalalau beach. The image at the top of this post shows mile 7 that had me terrorized even before I arrived having read about it in a guide book.

Our group took two days to get to our destination at Kalalau so we stayed overnight at a point just before this 7-mile narrow portion of the trail with no real hand holds, a vertical drop over the edge to the ocean below and a 90-degree turn with wind blowing and a pack on our backs. It didn’t help that I had read about numerous deaths at this point of people falling onto the rocks off the edge and into the churning ocean below. Well, you get the picture!

Hardly sleeping the night before we were to finish the rest of the trail, I was crying with fear. In the most terrifying moments, as I went over all the dangers in my mind, I realized something. Up to this point I had been the last one in line of the 4 of us preferring to have my space and go as slowly as I wanted to take in the beauty of the area we were traveling through without agendas or too much talking .

That morning I was dressed, had my pack on and was ready to go before anyone else and took off ahead of the group. My inner guidance told me that the only way to conquer this very embodied fear was to go by myself before the rest of the group and have my experience whatever it was to be. If I got stuck then they were coming behind me.

At the most crucial point of the 90-degree turn, with a significant wind blowing, I turned to my breathing and rooted down through the soles of my feet into the dirt and rock beneath, hugged the vertical rock cliff to my left, did not look down at the ocean and most importantly completely focused on one step and one breath at a time.

Upon making it past the turn there was a short portion of the trail before it widened and turned off in another direction. It was here that I broke down completely and allowed the fear to dissolve through tears and immense gratitude for coming safely through this dangerous portion of the trail. When the rest of our group approached I simply let them go around me as I took time to integrate this powerful life changing experience.

To this day this experience is embodied within me and the lessons it taught me about being grounded, making my own assessments and not relying on others opinions (or fears), and the importance of taking one step at a time when confronting any challenge to come. I am now able to see fears as potential friends who have a message for me.

An important message.

It was up to me to take the fear apart and find my own guidance by staying embodied and present to the moment. The cautions of others experiences were important enough to take into consideration, but then I was forced to surrender to the possibilities that unfolded when I engaged with the fear out of curiosity instead of fight, flight, numbing out…or even abandoning my progress forward on the trail which would have been a different type of lesson.

This particular fear once engaged with gifted me with Kalalau Beach at the end of the hike in – where our shower each morning was a waterfall, prawns in the streams and fresh fruit on the trees, a gazillion stars out every night and the sunsets so stunning they left you in complete awe.

Kalalau Beach

The few people that made their way down there, and we engaged with, were all in life transitions. I am willing to bet the trail, and any fears they may have had hiking it – physical, emotional or spiritual – somehow became their allies and brought clarity and an expanded awareness about their next steps along the pathway of their own lives. I know it did for me!

The courage to live a fully embodied life, realizing our potential along the way and finding that light within… is not always easy.

That “perfect” offering you thought you were obligated to bring, or risk before you, can show up in the most unexpected ways. It often does not resemble or show up as how you have identified yourself your entire life, but instead arises from the depths of those hidden spaces inside that yearn to express and explore without any expectations or rules.

Fear allows you to crack open and invite the wildness of your untamed and unexplored expression. Rather like the artistry of aging!

Now what do you think my experience was on the same portion of trail on the way back? I’m not sharing mine as I am more interested in what yours would be……

Below is a short video spotlighting two elder women artists who speak to the presence of fear and failure in their lives and how they befriended it and were then able to listen to the messages it brought. .

A Place Called Hope ~ Awakening The Flow Of Our Sacred Intelligence

Guest Blog Post by Shayla Wright, at Wide Awake Heart, http://wideawakeheart.net

Last week I traveled by road from a small mountain town in the interior of British Columbia back home to Vancouver Island. I drove seven hours through blistering heat to reach the little town of Hope, where I was stopping on the way for the night. I arrived at Hope in the late afternoon, tired, hot and hungry. I was driving down the main street when I heard a loud bell, saw a flashing red light, and the wooden barrier at the train tracks I was about to cross came down right in front of my car. I sat there, watching and waiting, while the longest cargo train I had ever seen passed by. Car after black car rattled past me, as the sun began to disappear behind the towering coastal mountains.  A little bit of blessed coolness drifted in while I sat there.

After the train was gone, I waited for the barrier to go back up, along with a line of cars behind me. The bell kept on clanging and the red light kept on flashing for a long time. Ten minutes. Then fifteen minutes.

“They are very careful in this town about railway crossings,” I thought. “They really don’t want to take any chances.”

After another five minutes, I started to wonder what was going on. I got curious. After sitting there a bit longer with the question, it occurred to me that the mechanism was broken. I began to ponder crossing the tracks without the help of the broken system in front of me.  It seemed like a daring thing to do, and at the same time a sensible one, since I had seen the train go by a long time ago. I knew it was probably illegal to drive across the tracks while the barrier was down. Would someone come along and arrest me? Apparently not, because the missing authorities were what was needed to fix the broken crossing gear. I turned around and looked behind me. The other people were just sitting there inside their cars, like good law-abiding citizens.

And then one car, from further back in the line, took the chance. It was a man, who drove up on the wrong side of the street, where the barrier did not reach, looked quickly up and down the tracks, drove across them, and then back onto his side of the road. After he crossed over I sat there thinking about it for another two minutes; and then I turned my little car onto the wrong side of the road, and crossed the tracks. It felt very counter-intuitive to do such a thing: to drive on the wrong side, to go across with the bells clamouring and red lights flashing. After crossing I drove slowly down the main street of town, waiting to see if anyone else would follow me. No-one did. I realized they might not know that the system was broken, if they had arrived after I did and had not see the train go by.

I went into town, used the washroom, walked around in the park on the cool green grass under the trees, and looked for a restaurant. I was ready to go to my Airbnb about 45 minutes later. I turned on my GPS, as the Airbnb was outside of town on a river, and I had never been there before. The GPS directed me right back onto the same street, the only main street in town.

“Oh no,” I thought. “What if the barrier is still up?”

As I got closer, I saw a whole line of cars waiting, even longer than before, and realized that it was. It was clear that things don’t get fixed very quickly in the sleepy little town of Hope. I punched in ‘alternate route’ on my GPS, and found out, after circling around the town for ten minutes, that there wasn’t one. There was only one road to where I was going, and going down the main street,  across the tracks, and through the barrier was the way to access it.

I drove up to the line of cars waiting behind the barrier, and saw that it was slowly moving. Some people were leaving the line by backing up and turning around, or turning and driving back through a parking lot across the street. Nobody was driving across the tracks. I was amazed. No-one was considering doing anything except going back. Not one person was rolling down their windows and saying to one of the other people waiting, “Hey, what do you think’s going on here?”

I wanted to interrupt the docility, the unquestioning obedience, to get out of my car and walk up and down the road, shouting to all of them, “It’s broken. Broken! Just go through, it’s totally safe.”

I was much too tired to do that, in that moment. I couldn’t summon the will force to embody that much boldness and vitality, so I just waited till I got close enough to the front of the line. Then I scooted my car across again, on the wrong side of the road, in the face of those very insistent bells and flashing lights, and made my way to my Airbnb.

Ever since that evening, I’ve been haunted by the implications of this simple event. My mind keeps going back to it, like a tongue to a broken tooth. It appears to me now that the incident was a little fractal, a very small event that illuminates much of what is going on in our deeply troubled human culture. It demonstrates so clearly how easy it is to believe in the warning signs we receive, when sometimes, they are actually part of a broken system, and there is no real danger at all.

How many loud warning bells have you heard lately, how many red lights have been flashed in your eyes? Sometimes the warning bells and lights come from the outside, from an authority, from people who are trying to protect us, keep us safe. If a train is really coming, these barriers and warning bells are essential. But what if it’s not? What if the mechanism is broken? We can get stuck for a long time if we never dare to question, to open our eyes, our ears, our hearts and minds, and have a good look at what is going on.

In the end, I believe it’s our inner bells and flashing lights that challenge us most deeply, that hold us most firmly in place, like Br’er Rabbit and the tar baby. They can keep on clanging and flashing in our eyes, in our brains, for so long that we get hypnotized by them. We become deaf to the whispers inside us that carry another kind of knowing, the voices that have been trying to reach us through all the noise and clamour. We abandon those parts of ourselves that dare to question, dare to think way outside the mainstream, the over culture, that are brave enough, creative enough, to offer us another way.

River Delta Alaska

There are times when it’s very intelligent to obey, to follow, to listen to whatever the authorities are telling us, if we have good reason to trust and respect them. But we can only trust them if we have taken the time to find out who these people are, how much heart and integrity they really have, and where their information is coming from. If we just go along with whatever we have been told, we are living like a child who needs an adult’s hand to cross the street. If we cannot find the energy, the freedom, the maturity, to examine and digest for ourselves the information we are being fed, the rules we are being asked to follow, then we simply fall asleep. Real democracy cannot flourish under such conditions, nor can a healthy family, or a neighbourhood, or an organization. Without the energy of dissent, of our burning questions, of our ‘no’, we cannot grow and evolve, or find our way into a new future. We settle for obedience, for safety, for conformity, for being good, instead of daring to listen to another voice, wilder, deeper, braver:

”Maybe I can just go across. Maybe I really can step outside this narrow place I have been living in without even noticing.”

This kind of exploration evolves and unfolds in us over time. We learn how to trust something sane and grounded inside us. Doing our own research doesn’t mean getting on the internet and following clues from someone we have never met down into a wild rabbit hole. People have to earn our trust and our respect; it cannot be blindly given. If we want to listen to someone and learn from them, we need to have a good sense of who they are as a human being, how much respect and compassion they offer to everyone around them, how they move and function in their everyday lives. This kind of discernment has become more more difficult since Covid 19, which is why we need more awareness about this than ever.

Charles Eisenstein came to speak at an eco-village here a couple of years ago. He offered his radical teachings on climate change and the environment that evening. At one point, an older man in the audience, a long-time passionate environmentalist, stood up and attacked him verbally, calling him a climate change denier and his message a threat to our shared future. Charles listened to this man without reacting or defending himself at all. I watched him really taking this man in, making space for his experience, his outrage and distress, inside his own heart. Charles told this man that he really understood why he might feel such things, and then he listened to his response. After a few minutes of dialogue, the man sat down. At the end of the evening, he came forward and threw himself into Charles’ arms, where they shared a long embrace.

I don’t think Charles is perfect. He is deeply human and he has his own struggles, conflicts and biases. Witnessing him that evening did make it clear that for me he is trustable, that he is walking his talk, embodying a deep integrity.

We need good friends and wise mentors like these to travel with, to give us courage, hope, inspiration. It can feel frightening and dangerous, to cross the lines we drew for ourselves, so long ago. If we don’t want to just sit here and wait until all the bells and lights stop flashing, we all need companions to make ‘good trouble’ with, as John Lewis puts it, to awaken the living, radical nature of the intelligence inside us.

To honor, protect and awaken the diversity of our intelligence is one of our primary tasks, if we want to heal and transform our human culture. Children are bursting with brilliant curiosity, until they are shut down and taught to inhale information without questioning, without listening to their own inner wisdom. The unschooling movement recognizes this intelligence as one of our primary resources, as something sacred and essential to our survival as a species. Forest schools and other new ways of educating our young ones allow children to remain connected to their bodies, to nature, to their joy and playfulness, as they grow and develop in a whole new way. Children in these schools do well, on a social level, as well as academically. If we can stay curious, if we can discover how to keep on learning for our whole lives, a vast field of possibilities opens up. We remain alive, open, tender, and full of humility. We don’t close down and harden, like so many brittle old people we see these days.

To respect the way this sacred intelligence moves and breathes in each one of us is a remarkable and deeply healing way of being. A friend who did not do well in academia told me recently that she got a very high score when she was tested for her capacity to discern patterns. One day, during a session, a client who communicates with trees asked me a question. I invited her to ask an oak tree that she loves. That tree gave her an answer far beyond anything I could ever have come up with.

Another client, who works at a very demanding job at a university in the US, told me that she can’t make lists anymore. “Nothing feels linear,” she said, “ it all feels fluid, amorphous. And it doesn’t feel like it’s just mine, it feels like it belongs to something larger. ” We sat together and felt into the kind of intelligence that is emerging in her at this time, asking to be embodied. I told her it feels like a river delta, flowing, complex and fertile.

When we can embody the flow of this kind of  intelligence, it is profoundly pleasurable and fulfilling. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi tracks how good this feels in his famous book, “Flow.” When our nervous system is in a natural, healthy, connected state, this seems to be the way we are designed, for optimal functioning. I want to help us find the courage to be this way with each other, to begin to deeply honour and respect new ways of knowing, ways that have been hidden and suppressed in our mainstream culture for a long time. I pray we can stand with each other in questioning deeply much of what we are being told, so we can discover what really feels true, in every cell of the body, in every beat of our heart.

Hope is more than a town. It’s a place inside us, that is not based on fantasy and dreams, that comes alive when we can begin to follow the light of our embodied wisdom. As we begin to embody these new ways of being here, we touch the people around us, and transmit this energy out into the world, sometimes without saying a word..

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give–yes or no, or maybe–
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

~William Stafford, ‘A Ritual to Read to Each Other’

with love,


Resilient Vulnerability

These days we are acutely aware of our vulnerability with a global pandemic, social/civil unrest, political upheavals, environmental devastation and so much more – pressured onto our attention by the media and the mainstream narrative. Resilience is being talked about endlessly with an abundance of information on “how to” increase your resiliency or “do more”. These are certainly of value if they are embodied and not simply a construct of the mind.

Yet the truth is from the moment you were born, even the moment of your conception, you were vulnerable and remain so for the rest of your embodied life. The resilience part does indeed come from a certain built-in innate inherent resilience. Yet it also comes from our choices and conscious or unconscious actions.

Do we perceive embodied life from a space of separation? Or a space of communion within wholeness and vast interconnection?

Essentially the way in which you perceive life and who you are within it….. and becoming.

Take accountability for our own well being or continually search for answers or rescue outside of ourselves?

Where do you place your attention? On artistry and the passion that moves you….or on fear stuck in old patterns of being that no longer serve you?

I leave you with these questions to live within. Not particularly finding answers for them, but instead finding out who you are in the midst of life challenges that all have purpose to them.

Alice Herz Sommer, a holocaust survivor, lived to be 109 years old and was still living independently and practicing piano daily. Take some time to view this interview by Anthony Robbins to see what it took for one Jewish woman to not only survive the camps, but to be someone who brought hope to everyone around her. This is resilient vulnerability….and more!

Loss Of Identity

“Leave it all and let yourself just slip back into the rhythms of your intimate wildness.”

John O’Donohue

Identities we have crafted for fitting in, belonging, survival or that have been culturally bestowed upon us, can imprison in a cage of our own unrequited longing.

If we had no words we would simply be present to the landscape and relationships with all of our senses without capturing them in definitions, culturally prescribed boxes and assumptions. Yes, language has the power to expand our embodied life experience, but how freeing it might be to go beyond words and identities that we are caught in.

During this powerful shift in consciousness, and also as we age, it is our task to untangle ourselves from identities that are stale like old bread though they served us at one time, and cast them gently aside as a fresh recognition of who we are in our wholeness slides into our awareness.

Not to immediately form a new identity to “secure” our place in the world – but instead to wake up to the passion and wildness that has somehow been left on the highest shelf where we never looked collecting the dust of what we had covered up long ago.

How we clamber to find out who we are and where we belong only to step to the precipice, look down, and decide we are not courageous enough to take the leap into discovery and vulnerability. As we face the last part of our embodied lifetime we may be more willing to take those leaps.

So many humans on all levels are being confronted with having to do just this right now, for there doesn’t appear to be any place to run away from ourselves in mindless business or how we have contributed to our own neglect and seeming powerlessness. Instead we are challenged by the discovery and appearance of our desires beneath our worn out identities and illusional restrictions.

It is not easy to discard old identities that no longer serve the “one” that is emerging. There is a sense of loss and uncertainty as we stand at the threshold of being more fully ourselves.

This was clearly shown to me through a dear friend that recently transitioned out of her body. She was aware at the end that the identities she claimed had relentlessly imprisoned her, and at the same time were doorways she could walk through at any time. She had started to courageously cast off these identities, yet the cancer kept claiming her back into a narrowed landscape where fear and doubt rose up like a seemingly never ending flood.

Where are we as we come up against our own worn out identities that smother wildness, passion and discovery?

Recognizing them for what they are and with great compassion and mindfulness unraveling the binding threads to reweave ourselves in the wholeness of our wild untamed being.

“One of the sad things today is that so many people are frightened by the wonder of their own presence. They are dying to tie themselves into a system, a role, or an image, or to a predetermined identity that other people have actually settled on for them. This identity may be totally at variance with the wild energies that are rising inside in their souls. Many of us get very afraid and we eventually compromise. We settle for something that is safe, rather than engaging the danger and the wildness that is in our hearts. We should never forget that death is waiting for us. …….”it is a great liberation because it means that you can in some way feel the call to live everything that is within you.” John O’Donohue, from Walking In Wonder

Copyright Gaye Abbott, Natural Passages Consulting, June 2020

A Few Words On Aging

The natural evolution of an embodied human is to change with each year we are here.  Not just physically, but within the heart of our emotions and in the deepest energetic recesses of our mind, thinking and creative potential. 

For some this is a very conscious process.  An unfolding of acceptance, transparency, trust and surrender revealing our life path. Every year brings new opportunities and awareness.

Some accept the societal story and common narrative of aging, or impulsively seek the next “anti-aging” supplement or practice which denies what is a natural process for all living beings.

The continuum of birth to death reveals a pathway uniquely our own.  No one else has our challenges, experiences, opportunities and possibilities. 

For some this is a short spectrum and filled with challenges that can’t simply be overcome with facing them head on.  Acceptance of disabilities, dis-ease and even death are at the forefront during these final embodied years. 

Impermanence beckons us from everywhere.  We see it in nature, our friends and loved ones, the animals special to us and at every turn of life.  Everything ages and dies within the cycles and rhythms of life here on Earth.

What our unique path will be is simply a matter of perception and is revealed in our unfolding life moments. That we will transition in death at some point is inevitable. 

Many of us have been blessed with more embodied life moments to dig deep and find our passions buried beneath complacency, fixed identities that do not honor the wild soul inside, and ungrounded fears.  Free of the pressures and stresses of youth and mid-life we are invited into the stage of elderhood.

Elder saturated in the experiences, wisdom and innate sense of belonging, woven with an unrelenting sense of humor that surfaces in a multitude of moments during our days no matter what chronological age we are. 

Being an Elder is not defined by age, but rather Elders are recognized because they have earned the respect of their community through wisdom and actions or their teachings; through the vibrancy that radiates out from their presence and the unique artistry that only they can bring into the world.

Let us return to acknowledging elders in the fullest sense of the powerful presence they can be and are becoming.  Respecting the life artistry that has been necessary to bring them to where they are today. 

As we ripen into our aging beauty may we be heard, seen and respected for what we have to offer.  May we trust and respect our own becoming with grace, curiosity and surrender.…and a strong dose of humor!

The time is now to free yourself into the wildness of elderhood.  To ground who you are and what you have to bring into the very center of your being in spite of the challenges, or better yet because of the challenges!

You have stories to tell, wisdom to share and artistry to impart.

Don’t die now….before you die!

Copyright by Gaye Abbott, 6/2020, Natural Passages Consulting